Film Review

MARIE ANTOINETTE:SOFIA COPPOLA AT THE COURT
OF VERSAILLES

PARIS, 18 October 2006—Marie Antoinette is neither an
historical film nor one possessing any illuminating dialogue giving
insight into the history of France. Moreover, Sofia Coppola is not
French and nor did she live in the eighteenth century! "Errors" abound,
but does it really matter if the inside of the Palais Garnier is filmed when it
wasn't built until a century later? Does anyone really believe Coppola
didn't know?

On the other hand, Coppola's super-production is an enchanting and
lavish portrait of an ill-prepared fourteen year-old girl who was sent to
a hostile country to marry a man she had never met. Antonia Fraser's
touching biography* which covers the early years of the Austrian
princess's life at the Court of France has been closely followed. The film
opens with an outstanding scene where the carriage of Marie Antoinette
approaching the French border is stopped and the young girl is stripped of
everything she possesses, including her friends, her clothes and
underclothes, and her beloved pet dog. "You may have as many dogs as you
want. French dogs", she is told.

Sofia Coppola then proceeds to paint a totally believable picture of a
foreign woman who is denied her identity and plopped down in a foreign
country, in this case, Versailles in 1770. Tellingly, the music is
resolutely contemporary and, oh surprise, the language spoken there is
English.

Marie Antoinette is shown as a light-hearted child who meanders through
gardens and courtyards, giggling at the stuffy court protocol as she sips
her champagne, wearing dresses and shoes of ever greater
extravagance. The doors of Versailles were especially high to enable
the wigs to pass under. An enormous proportion of the budget was dedicated
to decor and dress and the film, starring of course the Chateau of
Versailles is visually exquisitely beautiful.

Each of the fabulous 18th century costumes was so expensive that all
taking part were decked out in enveloping plastic aprons from head to toe
each time they left the film set to eat. Hah! says the French press,
Coppola's hiding the costumes! Not at all. The canny director was
economising on potential cleaning bills for splodges of food and truffle sauce. She had to move
quickly, too, to get her hands on those costumes before a rival French
crew made off with them.

Orgies of pink patisseries and rose petals abound, with croissants and
brioches, kuglehofs, fruit tarts and scrumptious large cakes, and
pink macaroons, those luscious little almond cakes à la rose, feather
light yet gooey that only the French know how to make. Most
mornings, someone from the set would arrive for an order, said a spokesman
for Ladurée, the famous Parisian patisserie store.

A feather floats in the air.... frivolity and sensuality take the place
of sexuality as the husband Marie Antoinette was married to proves
impotent, on all but one night. The emptiness of her life is
filled with a form of light-hearted escapism.

This is a film with style; it's what a non-French person thinks is
French. The whole French luxury industry is there, not only in the
clothing, but in the architecture, furnishings and porcelain.

Not least, the casting was thoughtfully done, with
Kirsten Dunst in the role of the Austrian princess, delightful and full of
charm, Marianne Faithfull as the dominating Empress of Austria, and Jason
Schwartzman as the immature, thoughtless Louis XVI. This is a film made by
a director whose love for France shines out at every moment.